1. The earliest sense of Jesus' death was as a sacrifice. Even at the Last Supper, Jesus anticipated that his blood and body would forge a new covenant (Luke 22:20). Paul surely passes on earlier tradition when he thinks of Jesus death as a Passover lamb (1 Cor. 5:7). In Romans 8, he uses the metaphor of Christ's death as a sin offering (Rom. 8:3).

The book of Hebrews takes this imagery to the next level. Now Jesus is not just the sacrifice, but the priest offering the sacrifice. Indeed, he is the high priest of the new covenant, superseding all priests of the old covenant. He serves in a superior sanctuary to any earthly sanctuary--the true, heavenly one. And he offers the sacrifice to end all sacrifices.

In the thinking of Hebrews, no sacrifice before Christ was effective at all (Heb. 10:1-3). But now, "By one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy. (Heb. 10:14).

These are of course metaphors, since Jesus literally was put to death by Romans as a criminal on a cross. Hebrews uses these metaphors to explain to its audience that the sacrificial system of Jerusalem was no longer necessary. Jesus had satisfied the order of things. Through his death, all the sins of history were now potentially atoned for.

2. What was the function of ancient sacrifice? Their most basic function was to appease the gods. They were ubiquitous in the ancient world. The amount of sacrifice was often obscene. In most cases, the person bringing the sacrifice could eat a portion of what was brought, the god and the priests of the god also taking their portion. In some cases, sacrifice was understood as feeding the god.

Therefore, we should not be surprised to find imagery in the Bible of propitiation, where a sacrifice satisfies the wrath of God. This is imagery filled with metaphor, since God does not literally get angry. Indeed, from one perspective, you could argue that the sacrificial system of the Old Testament was God meeting Israel in its Ancient Near Eastern context, where sacrifice was ubiquitous. He takes a practice of their world and uses it to transform them and move them toward him. After all, Hebrews says that none of those sacrifices actually took away sin! The only sacrifice that actually worked was the death of Jesus, which then did away with sacrifice forever!

On the other hand, sacrifice arguably serves some deep felt need within humanity, some deep trace of our alienation from God. I will not commit on whether God started sacrifices with primitive humankind in anticipation of Christ, but the drive within humanity toward sacrifice surely fits some deep sense we have within of our alienation from God. It is a consummate example of a deep human sense that the universe is in disorder and that the order of things needs to be set aright.

3. A similar approach is that of Hugo Grotius and what is sometimes called a governmental theory of atonement. Grotius (1583-1645) suggested that, while God did not have to punish anyone for the sins of the world, God did so in order to demonstrate his justice (e.g., Rom. 3:25-26). While this position was not exactly that of John Wesley, the governmental approach is very common among those in the Wesleyan tradition.

4. In his novels, C. S. Lewis captured this inner logic to the universe with the phrase "deep magic." There is a sense of fitness that God should not just forgive us without any price being paid for our sinfulness. There is a deep sense of the need for penance, for restitution.

Crimes have been done against him and against each other, some of them horrific. Individuals have murdered, groups have committed genocide. We have lied and cheated for our own pleasure. We have hurt others to advance ourselves. We have sinned against others in our lust for pleasure and selfish anger.

There is a need for an offering. It feels like something needs to be paid. God could forgive the Hitlers of the world by divine fiat, but it feels like justice needs to be satisfied. It feels like someone needs to pay.

Using another metaphor, the New Testament sometimes speaks of Jesus' death paying a ransom. We are enslaved by sin. We cannot pay the price to be freed on our own. Someone else must pay the price. Some early Christian thinkers took this metaphor too far, as if Christ was paying off the Devil, who held us as slaves. But it is just one image and we should not overread it.

5. Jesus' death satisfies the order of things. Jesus death works the "deep magic" that reconciles the world. He is a spotless lamb without blemish. He was tempted as all humans but did not sin (Heb. 4:15). As a pure sacrifice he atoned for the sins of the whole world. He was thus found worthy to open the seals of judgment that would set the world to right with God (Rev. 5:4-6).

Jesus' death satisfied the order of things. "God became human so that humans could become like God," we might paraphrase Athanasius. As God, Jesus was qualified to pay the price for humanity's debt to God. As human, Jesus was part of the group that needed to pay the debt to God. These are metaphors that make sense, not necessities or absolutes, since God is God and has both the authority and power to forgive and heal us by his divine command.

Yet Jesus' death makes sense of God's forgiveness. It fits the order of things. It satisfies the deep magic of the universe. It communicates the power of God's love. It feels right given the way God has created the universe.

In his death, Jesus satisfied the order of things by enabling humanity to offer to God the greatest peace offering that is possible to imagine, namely, the peace offering of God's own sacrificial death.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

I'm sure this has been done, but I haven't done it. The "third quest" for the historical Jesus is the re-examination of the historical Jesus that took place after E. P. Sanders had forced a re-examination of Judaism and Paul's writings in the late 70s/early 80s. In 1985 Sanders would move from his re-visioning of Paul to a look at Jesus in his Jesus and Judaism.

Other work taking a second look at Jesus was going on, not least Geza Vermes' work. And there were methodological critiques in play like A. E. Harvey's Jesus and the Constraints of History. N. T. Wright's material on the "third quest" in the chapter he added to Stephen Neill's, The Interpretation of the New Testament, 1861-1986, was very formative for my own understanding.

To some extent, the critiques of earlier quests stand on their own two feet. The earlier quests were too focused on sayings rather than "the contraints of history," which might more centrally lean toward events. N. T. Wright's "double similarity"--the idea that Jesus must fit in between Judaism and earliest Christianity--must be used with caution but is as helpful as "dissimiliarity" was, the idea that we might affirm as historical sayings of Jesus that we can't imagine anyone making up in Judaism or early Christianity.

What I want to do today is ask specifically how the revised perspective on Judaism in the early 80s might have direct or indirect implications on our understanding of the historical Jesus.

1. Jesus was not starting a new religion.
I think this goes without saying. Jesus came for the "lost sheep of Israel" (Matt. 15:24). His time on earth did not include any sense of starting some movement outside of Israel.

2. Jesus' focus was on Israel, not the Gentiles.
The Gospels indicate some interactions between Jesus and non-Jews. We would expect the Gospels, three of which were fashioned for a Gentile context, to highlight those interactions. However, Matthew's emphasis likely gives us the best sense of Jesus' original focus on Jews (Matt. 10:6;15:24). Jesus' mission in Galilee was not about expanding the kingdom beyond Israel but was more about making sure that all Israel would be part of the coming kingdom.

3. Jesus was an apocalyptic prophet.
Those historical reconstructions that make the most sense see Jesus as a prophetic figure against an apocalyptic background. John the Baptist set an apocalyptic stage for Jesus' ministry, and Jesus' central message was the arrival of the kingdom of God. I do think it likely using purely historical criteria that Jesus viewed himself as the Messiah, although I think he avoided this persona in his public ministry. He did not, however, expect the kingdom to come militarily, which sets him apart from revolutionaries like Judas the Galilean.

4. Purity was not a major concern for Jesus.
If John the Baptist gives off some Essene vibes, Jesus doesn't. His message lands on the prophetic side of the "prophets versus priests" tension in the OT. As the prophets repeatedly indicted Israel for thinking their sacrifices would trump their unrighteousness, Jesus strongly endorsed the value of people over Law. We can speculate that Galilee was not particularly focused on purity concerns like those in Jerusalem, and Jesus seems to have followed suit.

I believe this dynamic holds in it the seeds of both why Paul was so annoyed with the Jesus movement and why he took inclusion to the next level after he overcame his resistance. Jesus included the lost sheep into Israel, despite their uncleanness and laxness in relation to the Law. Paul would persecute the early church for this reason and then expand the inclusion to the Gentiles once he had his own experience of Jesus.

Perhaps there is an inner psychological dynamic at work here as well. Paul who had struggled so long with being born in the Diaspora and being thought a second level Jew finally has a cathartic moment of self-acceptance where he embraces both the Diaspora and the whole world.

5. The Pharisees were not the boogie man.
Sanders highlighted the fact that the Pharisees were centered in Jerusalem and that Jesus was actually not likely to have had much interaction with them in Galilee. I take this as a caution rather than as an absolute. I continue to be intrigued by Matthew 23:15.

But the new perspective has highlighted, first, that most Jews actually revered the Pharisees. Not all of them were hypocrites. They were the ones actually trying to keep the covenant. They are the elder brother in the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Some of them became believers without stopping to be Pharisees (Acts 15:5) and Acts has Paul calling himself one in the present tense in Acts 23:6.

Sure, some of them no doubt had their priorities way out of whack--strain out a gnat and swallow a camel. But their attempt to keep the Law was not an attempt to earn salvation. They were born "in." It was no doubt an attempt to gain honor and perhaps some of them dismissed the rest of Israel as being "out" because they weren't keeping the Law as well. But the Mishnah will still say 200 years later that "All Israel has a share in the age to come."

So the Pharisees were strict, but no different from some of my strict relatives who keep a lot of rules. You can keep rules out of devotion to God, which some Pharisees did. Or you can keep rules and make the rules more important than first principles, which undoubtedly some Pharisees did.

6. Thorough expectation of works
I thought of another. While in Paul, I think the focus of his discussion of works has to do with works of Law, that is, those aspects of the Jewish Law that separated Jew from Gentile, Jesus has nothing to say on this debate because he is not dealing with Gentiles or their inclusion in the people of God.

Accordingly, Jesus assumes that God expects a certain kind of righteousness in a person's life. Jesus emphatically does not formulate such works in Pharisaic terms. He does not formulate them in terms of purity concerns or the kinds of "works of Law" that Paul has in mind. For Jesus, these are true works of righteousness, actions that help others (almsgiving) and appropriately honor God (prayer, fasting).

We can retrofit Jesus to be concerned with faith for he is concerned with the heart (e.g., Mark 7). But there is no trace of the faith versus works tension in Jesus. He wants the right works coming from the right heart. To read Paul's debates back on him is anachronistic.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Last weekend I made my yearly pilgrimage to SBL, the Society of Biblical Literature. I don't think I realized how mentally tired I was when I left. I returned feeling a bit refreshed and thankful for all the blessings of my life.

In the academic Dean's role, I spend most of my time academic problem solving and whack-a-moling the unpredictable daily stream of minutia that is the stuff of an academic institution. IMO, a good Dean is a servant of the greater good. Wayne Schmidt has an amazing ability to see possible ways that the Seminary can serve the Church and the minister in the trenches. The Seminary faculty are excellent at enriching pastors and lay leaders in our programs with down to earth, practical insights with an underlying depth.

The Dean, as I see it, keeps the two in good communication--the vision and its implementation--and helps make it happen academically. He or she helps make the vision of the leader happen academically, while empowering the faculty to thrive. I've been with enough other academic Deans to understand why the average tenure is about five years. I saw a fellow Dean at SBL and had to smile when I saw that distant look on his face. :-)

But I digress. SBL is an odd animal. It is full of individual scholars at various stages of their academic lives. Some are trying out their wings for the first time, trying to build a resume, trying to get some scholarly street credit. There are papers, papers, papers. I suppose most of them are not too memorable. Many of them are preposterous. Sorry, I just don't think Mark was originally written in Aramaic.

But some are quite memorable. Sometimes you get to witness an event that people talk about for a long time. I probably arrived too late to catch the ones this year, such as the review of Bart Ehrman's new book, How Jesus Became God, or the smack down between N. T. Wright and Doug Campbell.

The book hall is both amazing and depressing. For me it's a chance to realize how far behind I'm getting with my particular areas of interest and to wonder why I would even think about writing another book when there is already such a torrent of ink, most of which is smeared. Of course I will anyway. :-)

I paused to ask what one thing I came away with this time. I think it's a commitment to finish in the next month a scholarly book on Hebrews I have been overdue to finish for way too long a time. I've made good progress even today.

It is always nice to see old friends, people who also speak your first language, the language of the Bible in history. I suppose about 60 or 70 percent of that language is not immediately helpful even for a minister. I don't know. You don't have to know Greek to comfort someone who is dying. :-)

Still, it's nice to be able to talk about the bottom part of the iceberg with individuals who are both interested and conversant with such things. It's nice every once and a while to be with friends who are so much on the same page with you that you can pretend that everyone else in the world is crazy.

It was nice. I didn't present, so I didn't have that pressure. There were plenty other meetings and activities. I spent some time with my sister Juanita and my brother-in-law Ed Garcia, who pastors in Vista. And who can sneeze at San Diego when it's freezing outside here in Indiana? I saw Skyline, looked across the border into Mexico, and flew home.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

I had the opportunity to go to a luncheon on "Sectarian Violence in the Middle East" on Monday in San Diego, sponsored by the Council on Foreign Relations, a think tank out of Washington. It was two panelists and a moderator. One panelist member was Ebrahim Moosa, a professor of Islamic Studies at Notre Dame. The other was Mona Yocubian, who works for USAID.

The two panelists didn't agree on everything, but the moderator was able to pull out some common ground about the current crisis with ISIS and such.

1. The first is that the current situation is more complicated than ever.
I was probably the least informed person in the room. The number of individual groups in the Middle East is mind numbing. It's not just Sunni and Shia. There are Alawites and Hezbollah and all sorts of other gradations. They ally for somethings, pull against each other for others.

Dictators like Saddam Hussein, Bashar al-Assad, perhaps even Hosni Mubarak, were oppressive leaders who did/do evil things. But their removal in each case has left a vacuum of group fighting against group that, at least for the moment, seems even worse than before. Who's to say where it will all go?

My Monday reading group (Charles Taylor) has highlighted a complicating factor that wasn't discussed--the impact of modern individualism on the Middle East. Individualism has empowered radical Muslim individuals to leave saner communities and separate into factions of radical individuals like Al-Qaeda.

And as this event indicated, even Middle East experts themselves don't always agree on the analysis or prescription. That puts any US administration in a tough spot, needing to listen to multiple voices before making any decisions.

2. A second is that America and the West need to be very cautious about the way we intervene.
It seems like we push on one problem and two more spring up somewhere else. So we support the removal of Mubarak and the Muslim Brotherhood takes over. We don't know who to support in Syria. Bashar al-Assad is a bad guy, but the other side has become ISIS, which is a bad guy, maybe even worse.

On the panel, Moosa thought we needed just to stop intervening and to let the situation take its course, to let Saudi Arabia and the other countries of the region fight their own battle. There was vocal support and a significant pocket of clapping around the room for that.

Yocubian, who of course is in the broader Obama administration, took a more nuanced approach and suggested there are many things we can do in terms of aid and such that do not necessarily involve military intervention. She pointed out that Obama has tried to be very careful about intervening and that there are of course many hawks in Congress who think he should be intervening more. I know I thought we probably should have intervened before ISIS took Mosul and took over billions in monetary assets.

Obviously it's very complicated. I get that our intervention almost always seems to create more problems later. But you can't let Hitler take over the world either. Eventually it comes home to roost, when you might at least have nipped something in the bud. Liberals don't like Obama for intervening at all. But, given that he comes from that camp, surely it says something when he intervenes. Surely it says that it was REALLY important to intervene in this case or he wouldn't have done it.

Moosa advocated something like those capitalists who would have us just let an economic crisis play itself out without doing anything about it. Just let the Middle East play itself out and it will eventually right itself.

I disagree, even though I agree we should intervene as little as possible. In economics, I disagree in part because of the three or four years of Hades in destroyed lives. Better five years of moderate economic pain than three years of total decimation. It certainly seems to have worked in the recent economic crisis. How many small groups (like Christians in the Middle East) would be wiped out as the region rights itself?

I disagree secondly because I doubt it really would right itself. There has to be some unifying factor that can transcend factionalism. This is arguably in fact what happened in the origins of Islam. A common deity, a common ethic, a common sense of human worth, allowed rival factions on the Arabian peninsula to come together (of course the expansionary wars against non-Muslims helped too ;-).

3. My notes are at the office, so I don't remember what the moderator's third take-away was. I may have merged it above. I'll make up one that was also clear from the session. :-)

Most of us are way out of our depth on these issues. Policy and decision makers need to be listening to lots of different experts on the Middle East. Inevitably, our leaders have to make these decisions, but they need to make them with fear and trembling, talking to a lot of other people, including the leaders of other countries. We surely need to pray for them. The smartest of the smartest are hardly able to untie these knots.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

By now everyone has heard of the rioting in Ferguson last night after a Grand Jury decided that the policeman who shot Michael Brown would not be indicted to go on trial.

Now I want to be very clear: THERE IS NO ONE READING THIS BLOG WHO HAS ENOUGH INFORMATION TO KNOW WHAT THE RIGHT DECISION SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

I would think there was tremendous pressure on the Grand Jury to indict him. Then again, I don't know the people who were on the Grand Jury. YOU AND I JUST DON'T KNOW. I'd like to think that the system works most of the time.

What I bemoan is rather what I see as a loss in the US of any valuing of objectivity. We have dethroned modernism with its primacy on evidence and logic as the basis for sound thinking. So among the intelligensia we have created a space for a postmodern academia without any clear standards of truth... and we have re-empowered the pre-modern majority to rush forth unbridled in unreflectivity, including the church.

The rule of law is based on evidence and logic. That is a sign of high civilization. I realize that could be perceived as a prejudicial comment on the superiority of the West, so I want to make it clear that 1) most Americans aren't there and 2) plenty of non-Westerners are.

I've thought recently that, next time I teach philosophy, I really need to spend more time on logical thinking and rampant fallacies like hasty generalizations, the fallacy of subjectivism, etc. And the church is no better at thinking than anyone else in America. Indeed, because Christians often assume that the starting assumptions of whatever group to which they belong are revealed from God, Christian thinking is often skewed from the start.

Modernism wasn't the boogie man. It is what is responsible for the development of the West these last three centuries, hands down. It had a standard for truth that was tangible and that allowed for arbitration between competing claims. Now that it's had its spanking from post-modernism, how about we reclaim the quest for objectivity with the appropriate cautions? Modernism strikes back.

I don't know what the truth is about this situation... but neither do the imbeciles burning things in Ferguson... and neither do you or I.

P.S. Please do not make any racist comments if you comment on this post. I will delete them. Most African-Americans do not support the rioting in Ferguson, and there are just as many idiotic whites who have similar thought processes. Think Timothy McVeigh.

Monday, November 24, 2014

When it comes to the world around me, I'm not a particularly observant person. (And all the people said...) I actually think I'm quite high in EQ--I notice how other people are feeling more than most people. But I don't notice shoes or hair or something I'm looking for that is right in front of me.

There is a tendency to assume that most "normal" people are like you, think like you, see what you see, value what you value, have the same weaknesses you have. If you don't like the things I do then I'm weird for being interested in science or "nerd alert."

So at one time I might have thought, "No one will notice that spot or rip," because I wouldn't have. I can hide all traces of the pizza but my wife's nose has super powers--I can't smell it but she can.

I've known children (or students) to lie thinking, "No one will figure out that I'm lying or cheating." The middle school student doesn't realize how many students over the last 20 years--longer than they've been alive--have tried that same trick you just thought up for the first time. The usually not so brilliant student thinks, "They'll never notice that I've plagiarized," even though the professor knows you couldn't use a semicolon correctly to save your life.

If we're really good at something, we will tend to judge those that struggle with it. If we're not good at something then we'll tend to underestimate or distrust the abilities of others at that same thing.

The bottom line. They're not you. Who? Other people. Other people aren't you.

And most of the time, that's perfectly OK. Don't think the normal people think the way you do or act the way you do. Don't think that because you can do it then everybody should be able to. On the other hand, don't insist on doing something when there are others around you who can do it better.

Learn to understand how "the other" thinks. It may just be that not all Democrats are going to hell or that not all Christians are hypocrites. You don't always have to plan before you start a journey but it's also fine to know that you're going to be passing through Chattanooga at 8:53am.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

... As we look at the dialog these past decades since Sanders, some features of the discussion seem more directly relevant to the interpretation of Hebrews than others. In the next chapter, for example, we will look especially at Hebrews 6:1-2. There we will argue that the way in which Hebrews treats beliefs like repentance and resurrection--namely, as entry level beliefs--suggests that the bulk of the audience is not Jewish at all, but Gentile. [1] Before the new perspective, when it was easy to think of joining the Jesus movement as conversion to a new religion, it was easy to miss the fact that Jews would have already believed or practiced most if not all of the elementary principles mentioned in these verses.

While the extent to which Hebrews reflects a parting or partitioning of the ways from Judaism is a major feature of this book's inquiry, the new perspective puts the burden of proof on the one who argues for parting, rather than on continuity. That is to say, we should presume that the author of Hebrews located his sermon within the limits of Judaism unless the evidence clearly shows us otherwise. A Jew had faith in God and believed in repenting from "dead works." Jews practiced various forms of baptism and laid hands on people. Jews believed in resurrection and judgment. [2]

The expression, "dead works," is perhaps the most obvious place in Hebrews where the new perspective on Paul immediately called prior interpretations into question. Prior to Sanders, most commentaries on Hebrews assumed that the dead works here were something along the lines of works of Law in Romans and Galatians. So a person repented of trying to earn one's salvation. After the new perspective, however, it is obvious that one does not repent of works of Law. Indeed, Stendahl pointed out that Paul rejected boasting about his works of the Jewish Law--he does not consider them to be sinful or to his discredit. The vast majority of commentaries now rightly suggest that Paul is talking about sins, here, acts that lead to death.

In the next chapter, we will also explore the phrase, "seed of Abraham." At first glance, we might easily miss the potential significance of this expression. The tendency of Christians to understand the church as the new Israel has made it easy to miss how striking it is that Hebrews never refers to the Gentiles. Are we to understand the phrase, "seed of Abraham" in the way that is Paul's default and certainly the default of the earliest believers: as a reference to ethnic Israel? Paul may raise the possibility that Gentiles can become the seed of Abraham (e.g., Rom. 2), but Hebrews seems to assume it. Hebrews gives no argument or explanation for the phrase but matter-of-factly can combine Jew and Gentile into this phrase, a fact that may suggest a time beyond that of Paul himself.

Nor is Hebrews in discontinuity with Judaism when it assumes that it is only by God's grace that believers can receive the forgiveness of sins. This was always the presumption of the Jewish sacrificial system as well. Further, it has proved just as problematic to Christian interpreters of a certain theological stripe to find that Hebrews does not treat God's grace as inexhaustible without an appropriate response. The new prospective renders that entire issue moot. Both the early Jesus movement and the Judaism from which it sprang both held that God's favor was a matter of grace and that it demanded a faithful response in order to be maintained.

Clearly discussions concerning the early partitionings between Judaism and incipient Christianity bear more directly on the interpretation of Hebrews than the new perspective on Paul or the third quest for the historical Jesus. Was the earliest Christology of Christian Judaism such a significant mutation that it almost immediately placed it outside the normal boundaries of Jewish monotheism? ...

[1] cf. DeSilva.

[2] Not all Jews believed all these things, of course, and not all Jews believed them in the same ways. We will return to this diversity in the chapter that follows.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Earlier this week, Don Sprowl, the Chief Academic Officer of IWU. Shared about the contrast between the times when we really feel like Ecclesiastes--"Futile, futile, everything is futile"--and the inner peace we can have with Christ inside. We can learn to be content, as Paul says in Philippians 4.

I'm not having an Ecclesiastes day today, but I know what he was saying. I've come to view most of Ecclesiastes as something like a psalm of lament, although maybe I would call it a psalm for days when everything seems pointless. Dr. Sprowl was contrasting how things look "out there" to the way we know things are "in here."

The point of psalms of lament--or psalms of thanksgivings... or especially imprecatory psalms--is not to teach us stuff. That's a shallow view of the Bible, as if it's only about some school teacher with a ruler waiting to smack us on the knuckles if we don't memorize the point. These serve an inspired cathartic purpose. Yes, they tell us it's okay to be sad, to rejoice, to be angry. But they are not an excuse to wallow in sadness, feed our anger (it's fine to endlessly feed your thankfulness). They're moments for expression so that we can get it all out and move on.

It was a helpful thought to me for those days like Ecclesiastes. To me it is essential to read all of Ecclesiastes in the light of the final chapter, which I might paraphrase something like this--"So Solomon was pretty smart, but hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and do his will, because that really sums it all up."

Friday, November 21, 2014

It is deeply unfortunate that we now find ourselves in a situation where it will be very hard for many Christians in America to think anything but that immigration reform is of the Devil. David Drury, the Chief of Staff at Wesleyan denominational headquarters, put it this way: "The details and ramifications of such executive orders will be worked out over some time and should be discussed at length."

That is to say, it is appropriate to debate whether the President has the authority to by-pass Congress on this issue. Joe Donnelly, Senator from Indiana, who earlier voted in favor of immigration reform, put it this way: "I am as frustrated as anyone that Congress is not doing its job," but "only Congress has the ability to change the law to fix it."

The problem is that it will now be very difficult for many American Christians to support immigration reform at all. Why? Because many American Christians can't tell the difference between being a certain kind of Republican and being Christian. Well-intentioned to be sure, many American Christians can't clearly see where their faith ends and a particular form of Republicanism begins. It's called civil religion, and it is a major problem in the American church.

So it will be hard for many Wesleyans to remember that they overwhelmingly voted to support a statement on immigration by the Wesleyan Church at the last general conference. Would we get the same vote today, since it is now so closely associated with President Obama? That is to say, would the political dynamics of the current situation override the church's Christian sensibilities?

David Drury makes three points:

1. We should vote for compassion over our political parties.
Why do those at my church HQ strongly support immigration reform? It's because they actually know people caught in the current limbo. Perhaps they face being ripped away from their children. Perhaps their country of origin is extremely violent. Perhaps they were brought here when they were a baby and wouldn't even know what to do in the country they were born in. Some may not even speak the language of the country in which they were born.

Those at Wesleyan HQ actually know these people. They are in our church. So this is not some abstract, philosophical discussion for them. This is about real people. This is Jesus with a real person in front of him, someone naked who needs clothed.

Some of these individuals were brought here as children and didn't even make a choice to come. Others broke a law that seemed as insignificant to them as breaking the speed limit is for some of us (so should we have them pay a fine for breaking the speed limit?). Others just didn't leave after their visas expired. Think of the 43 students who were murdered in Mexico last week. Would you go back?

I believe that most Wesleyans would feel exactly the same if these real people in real situations were right in front of them.

2. Drury called for immigration reform.
I lament that the situation has now become so polarized. In such situations, carnal human nature hardens. Will Congress pass immigration reform now, or will they stubbornly now refuse even more than ever? There was a by-partisan bill passed by the Senate. Because of the political climate, how many of those who even voted for immigration reform would be in jeopardy to do so now? I bet even Joe Donnelly of Indiana would have to decide whether he could get away with voting for it a second time. My own representative, Susan Brooks might have voted for it before but I bet she'll have a hard time doing it now.

One thing Wesleyans can do is tell their representatives that the best way to stick it to Obama is to pass immigration reform and make it legal.

3. Finally, Drury urges Wesleyans to be part of the solution rather than the problem.
Of course carnal human nature is now going to be more opposed to immigration reform than ever. Obama beats his chest; the carnal reaction is to beat ours in response. But that's not the Christian response. The Christian response is to seek God's will, not to get back at the enemy.

I admire David Drury. It can't be popular in some Wesleyan circles to respond in this way. I know there will be a vocal minority who will grumble about this statement he made.

What I've found at every General Conference these last fifteen years, though, is that the church does the right thing anyway. I know the thirty somethings who will be leading our church in fifteen years. They will strongly resonate with this message of compassion.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

I have a hunch that there were varied edges to the Old Testament canon at the time of Christ. Most agreed on the Law and the Prophets (although an argument can be made that the Sadducees really only considered the Pentateuch to be canon... Philo also is majorly focused on the Law and considers the Prophets a kind of second level canon).

The Essenes considered various apocalyptic writings Scripture like 1 Enoch. I've wondered if there was some overlap in the early Jerusalem church with the Essene community, and here it seems notable to me that Jude quotes 1 Enoch. At Qumran I suspect they looked at writings like the Hymns and such as Scripture.

The Protestant OT canon today, as well as the Jewish canon today, seems to me to be the canon of the Pharisees, which became the canon of Rabbinic Judaism. Meanwhile, the OT canon of Roman Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity seems to me to be the Diaspora, Hellenistic Jewish canon, which it seems to me was both the OT canon for the NT Greek writers, as well as the canon of the patristic church.

That is my sense of the lay of the land, certainly open for dispute and discussion. It is something like what seems most likely to me given what I've studied of the topic.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

I actually have the workings of a post, "Exegesis in Bullet Points" that I might post sometime, but today I made this single PowerPoint slide on the nature of exegetical argument. For those who know me, this does not preclude other approaches to the biblical text. I only mean to say that this is the surest method if your goal is what the text really meant.

In exegesis:
1. Conclusions need to be based on evidence:

from clues in the text itself (literary evidence) The text has the upper hand in the hermeneutical circle. No matter what nice parallels there might be in the background literature, no matter what is written in the rest of the NT, no matter what your denomination wants you to say or your particular Christian subculture, if you are doing real exegesis, the text casts the only deciding vote for what it meant.

the most likely conclusion, not wishful thinkingIn exegesis, we are not looking for a possible meaning that fits with my preconceived notions. We are looking for the most likely meaning in context. We're looking for the probable meaning of the text, not a possible meaning that works out better for me.

2. Proposed meaning generally has to fit within meanings that were actually in the range of meanings from the time of writing. (historical context)

I am open to the possibility that God implanted hidden meanings in the text such that no one had a clue what a text meant until centuries later. However, this is usually pre-modern thinking. Virtually all, if not all of the biblical texts had a demonstrable meaning to their first audiences. If you think the text is about attack helicopters, you're either a prophet or a bad exegete.

3. The text has the final say:

over supposed background informationScholars are especially bad at parallelomania. They know some parallel in Josephus, Artapanus, or Quintillian. But the text itself casts the final vote in exegesis.

over my theology and pre-understandingsIt can be hazardous to your health to learn exegesis. Sometimes the text just didn't mean what my group wants it to mean. The polyvalence of the text actually may allow us to continue to believe things that are "extra" beyond what the text actually meant. I put most theological exegesis in this category. But if your goal is to listen to the text, then your theology is irrelevant. It meant what it meant, whether it is convenient to me and my group or not.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Finally made it through the hour and a half panel discussion from last Monday that took place at Duke Divinity School. N. T. Wright was the reason, who spoke last Tuesday there. Richard Hays moderated. Douglas Campbell was the main debate partner, with Susan Eastman and Ross Wagner occasionally weighing in.

If I am allowed an opinion, I have similar questions about the extent to which Wright sees the exodus/return from exile motif in Paul, as well as his identification of Christ with Israel. Campbell's opening question seemed quite apropos.

Still, I didn't enjoy what soon felt like Campbell badgering him. Wright fittingly asks him if he is a lawyer at one point. I'm currently trying to wade through Campbell's own tome. Frankly, I don't think Barth is particularly helpful for understanding Paul, for whom I believe theology is ultimately more central than Christology.

For those not acquainted with Richard Hays, he is the elder statesman of Duke Divinity School, currently Dean. He made his entry into the scholarly world by championing that the expression, "the faith of Jesus Christ," referred to Jesus' faithfulness (to death) rather than to faith in Christ. Most reading this post would benefit most by reading his book called, The Moral Vision of the New Testament.

The table seemed arranged from least sympathetic at least to most congenial. Ross Wagner is a class act, and a steal for Duke. Beyond that, I'll let the video speak for itself.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Here is my attempt to capture the best insights of the last sixty years or so since the first rumblings of a revised perspective of Paul in relation to Judaism:

Paul did not see himself as a miserable failure at keeping the Law before he believed on Christ. If anything, his attitude was more like the Pharisee in the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector in Luke 18. As far as the righteousness in the Law, he was blameless (Phil. 3:6). Stendahl

Paul's "conversion" certainly was not a change of religions but a partial modification of his beliefs within Judaism, most significantly the fact that he came to believe that Jesus was the Messiah. (Stendahl would say a call, but that is probably too weak.) Paul is not his Christian name (Acts continues to call him Saul for over a decade after he believes Jesus is the Messiah) but relates to his Roman name. It would be easy to argue that Paul had long suppressed his Diaspora identity--a more generative psychological explanation for his conversion than introspective guilt in the modern sense.

Paul's turning point centered on a religious experience he had of the risen Christ. (Segal)

The earliest Christians were thus a messianic sect. They in no way saw themselves as departing from Judaism but saw themselves representing what all of Israel should believe and do, true Israel, as it were.

Those elements of Paul's theology that the "new perspective" has most impacted largely grew out of the Gentile mission. In these areas, Paul's theology largely developed "from solution to plight." (Sanders) Paul knew that the Gentiles were in through Christ (solution); therefore, he presented arguments for why keeping "works of Law" was not effective for "justification" before God (problem).

"Works of Law" for Paul referred especially to those aspects of the Jewish Law that were "boundary markers" that separated Jew from Gentile. (Dunn) These stood at the heart of the earliest Christian debate over the inclusion of the Gentiles into the community of faith. Judaizers argued that Gentiles had to be circumcised to be included, and James/Peter argued that they had to observe certain purity rules to have table fellowship. Paul's teaching on justification by faith (solution) grew out of these problems.

Later interpreters of Paul have understandably misread Judaism in the light of Paul's arguments. For example, Jews did not see themselves as keeping the Law to get right with God. Keeping the Law was not about "getting in" but about "staying in" (Sanders). Indeed, it wasn't even as much about staying in as about responding appropriately to God's covenant expectations (covenantal nomism--Sanders).

Judaism thus thoroughly presupposed that God was a God of grace, meaning that his favor was not earned by Israel's faithfulness. (Sanders) Once we understand grace against the backdrop of patron-client relationships, we see that there were informal expectations that came with grace, even if grace could not be earned. (Malina)

It is thus incorrect to accuse either Judaism or interpretations of Paul as "justification by works" if we conclude that there were definite ethical expectations of both Jews and believers. Paul teaches that our deeds are an element of our final justification before God. (Wright) This neither contradicts a proper understanding of grace nor Paul's arguments that keeping the ethnic particulars of the Jewish Law cannot demonstrate one's right standing before God.

Justification language did not stand at the heart of Paul's theology but was rather a set of lenses Paul used in response to opposition to the Gentile mission from conservative elements within the earliest church. (Sanders, Dunn)

Paul's arguments about "faith in Christ" begin with statements about how he and the Jerusalem church agree on the necessity of the "faithfulness of Jesus" for a right standing before God. (Schenck, synthesizing both Hays and Dunn)

Paul's arguments with his opponents are thus arguments over a story (Hays), namely, the story of Christ's death and resurrection. Paul shares with earliest Christianity the belief that the resurrection has enthroned Jesus as Messiah. He shares with earliest Christianity the belief that the cross has functioned as a sacrifice of atonement, that the "faithfulness of Jesus" has made justification possible before God. He agrees that baptism in the name of Jesus is a mystical participation in the death of Jesus (Sanders, Schweitzer). He disagrees on the implications of these affirmations.

Wright is probably correct on a background narrative at least in this respect. The cross was seen by the earliest Christians as the solution to the problem of Israel's "captivity." Israel should not be under the power of the Romans. God would send a Messiah to deliver it. Jesus' death was likely initially seen as a Maccabean type sacrifice to atone for the sins of Israel.

1. John 3:16-17 put it aptly, "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him."

The cross demonstrates the love of God. "Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom. 5:7-8).

God did not have to atone for our sins. He was under no compulsion to offer us hope, let alone to send his Son to die on the cross. God does not send anyone to hell. The default state of humanity at this time is already one of separation from God. God is not compelled to lift a finger to do anything about it. The gravity of our sinful state will pull us to destruction on its own without God's intervention.

Christ's death on the cross thus took place by God's free act, where the will of God the Father and the will of God the Son were in complete agreement. The cross demonstrates God's love for humanity, his desire to be reconciled to us.

2. This free act of God was potentially for everyone. Not all Christians believe that Christ died for everyone. In 1618-19, the Synod of Dort in Holland concluded that the scope of Christ's atonement was "limited." The "L" in the Calvinist acronym "TULIP" stands for "limited atonement" and issued from this council, where Armininianism was rejected.

The idea of limited atonement is the sense that Christ must have only died for those God predestined or predetermined would be saved. Christ thus only would have died for those whom God unconditionally elected. [1] However, 1 Timothy 2:4 indicates that God would prefer all people to saved. If this is the case, then he must not predetermine who will be saved. If God desired all people to be saved and it was entirely up to him, then all people would be saved. Since the Bible clearly does not teach that all will be saved, God must not predetermine who will be saved.

Christ thus died potentially for everyone. Not everyone has or will avail themselves of this possibility, but God has made it possible by his will, and Christ has made it possible by his free death.

3. Could Jesus have chosen otherwise? This question relates to another question, "Could Jesus possibly have sinned while he was on earth?"

The controversies about the person and nature of Christ concluded that Jesus was one person but that he had two natures and thus two wills. [2] Hebrews suggests that Jesus was tempted in every way like us but that he did not sin (Heb. 4:15). Hebrews is clearly speaking of intentional sin, since the situation presupposed is one in which Jesus had a choice based on temptation.

Could Jesus have chosen wrongly? Certainly we should think of these temptations as real. That is to say, the temptations of Jesus pulled on him but not to the point of sin. We have said in a previous article that the temptation to sin can in some cases be a good desire that is directed toward an inappropriate object, such as when a good sexual desire is directed toward the wrong person. So a person without a "sin nature" can be tempted, as in the case of Adam and Jesus. [3]

So we can suppose that Jesus' human will in itself would have been capable of sinning. However, the orthodox Christian teaching of the centuries suggests that, on this point, Jesus' divine will would have prevented his human will from taking that step. Thankfully, there was no such crisis. Both Jesus' human and divine wills both freely chose to do what was right.

Similarly, both Jesus' human and divine will in concert freely and willingly chose to die on the cross for our sins.

4. I argued in the previous article that God as all powerful had the power to heal us of our sin by divine command and that as sovereign he had the freedom to forgive us by his free choice. It is hard to see how it could be otherwise. We must therefore conclude that God's choice to send his Son to die for our sins was entirely his free choice, since he could have forgiven and healed us by his divine command.

This fact accentuates how great an act of love the atonement was. God chose to identify with our suffering when he did not have to. God the Father does not learn anything on the cross. He created the possibility of suffering, pain, and temptation. He knows everything.

But we learn something on the cross. We learn that, even if we do not always understand why God allows evil and suffering to persist, God the Son has suffered with us. God has identified with our situation.

5. Therefore, while it is not complete, we must consider the "moral influence" theory of atonement to be an important element of the atonement. [4] Some would argue was the most prevalent view in the early church until the time of Anselm in the 1000s. [5] The moral influence approach suggests that one reason for Jesus' life and death was to make us righteous, to "influence" us in a positive moral direction, to empower us to be righteous.

We see this sense of Jesus as the perfect moral example in the slogan, "What would Jesus do?" As 1 John 3:16 says, "Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters." Jesus came to earth to do more than give us a good moral example and to show us how to love each other, but certainly part of what he came to do was to show us how to be the kinds of human beings we should be, indeed were created to be.

Jesus' death on the cross was the ultimate demonstration of God's love because God did not have to heal us and because he freely chose to heal us in this way. He chose to heal us in a way that identified with us in the predicament of our suffering and the consequences of evil. In his humanity Christ showed us how to be fully and perfectly human, and he then gave us the Holy Spirit to become as human as he was.

In his death, Jesus consummately showed us the love of God for us and for the creation.

Next Sunday: A3. In his death, Jesus satisfied the order of things.

[1] A five point Calvinist is someone who accepts all five tenets of the TULIP: Total depravity, Unconditional election, Limited atonement, Irresistible grace, and the Perseverence of the saints. There are "four point" Calvinists who reject limited atonement.

[2] We might call these controversies about Christ, "Christological controversies." The view that Jesus only had one will, which was eventually rejected is called "monotheletism," just as the view that Jesus only had one nature is called, "monophysitism."

[3] As we have argued in a previous article, the idea of a "sin nature" is itself a metaphor rather than an actual thing inside us.

[4] The moral influence theory is often associated with the very weak form of Abelard in the 1000s, when it was directly opposed to Anselm's theory of penal satisfaction. Abelard did not present it a form where it could be combined with the other theories of atonement. It was simply Jesus showing us his love. Similarly, as we will argue in the next two articles, Anselm overemphasized the satisfaction and substitutionary elements in atonement. Both thus reflect significant changes to atonement theory in church history.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

The late 20th century saw the rise in biblical scholarship of what was called the "new perspective" on Paul, the third quest for the historical Jesus, and re-investigations of the "parting of the ways" between Christianity and Judaism. What was that all about? Basically, it was the fact that it took until the late 1970s for Christian scholars to recognize the Lutheran glasses that they had been wearing to interpret the New Testament and Judaism for centuries.

The new perspective was not just a new perspective on Judaism. It also involved some modification to the understanding of early Christianity. There has been much debate over the new perspective, especially in Reformed and Lutheran circles. And while there was much push-back and "new perspective" remains a dirty phrase in some circles, I don't know that you will find any scholars anywhere who haven't made some adjustments to their understandings after the debates of the last 40 years.

On the side of Judaism, new perspective was being honest about the fact that there was far more grace in the Jewish literature of Paul's day than the paper cut-out that had been in use in the 1800s and early 1900s, especially in German scholarship. Joachim Jeremias is so off on some things that E. P. Sanders was tempted to think he was intentionally skewing his account of Judaism at some points.

The stereotype of legalism, as if all Jews were like the Pharisees of Matthew 23, just doesn't fit what the Jewish writings of the time say (such as the hymns of the Teacher of Righteousness in the Dead Sea Scrolls). Reformed folk like D. A. Carson launched a push-back project called, Justification and Variegated Nomism to try to undermine the new perspective's understanding of Jewish literature. But the entire project more less confirms that Judaism wasn't this "works-righteousness" type hypocrisy that was par for the course before 1977. Even those pushing back have already modified their understanding of Judaism.

On Paul's side, those of us in the Wesleyan tradition can be happy to find that the new perspective actually says what we have said all along. The Reformed tradition has always accused us of works-righteousness in our interpretation of Paul. So it's no surprise that they would reject the new perspective when it more or less said what we have said all along--Paul expected a Christian to demonstrate fruit of righteousness in Christian living, and those who do not are in danger of not making it into the kingdom.

So the new perspective suggested that Paul and the rest of the New Testament believed that righteousness was a central part of Christian living. Similarly, it suggested that grace was an essential feature of Second Temple Judaism. It took the Lutheran and Augustinian glasses off of our reading of Judaism and Paul, which prompted a wholesale re-evaluation. That eval spread to Jesus (thus the "third" quest) and eventually to a re-examination of when Christianity really became a distinct religion from Judaism.

The result has been a much fairer perspective on both, more or less calling into question any resource on Paul or Judaism before about 1980.

Friday, November 14, 2014

One assignment people do in the Seminary is to sketch out an overall biblical theology on a subject. Here is a brief sketch I did on women in leadership in the Bible:
________________________
In the OT, with no surprise given the patriarchal culture of the Ancient Near East (ANE), it was unusual for a woman to be a leader. There were exceptions like Deborah to be sure. It clearly was no absolute that women couldn't lead. It just was unusual. The role of prophetess is not widely attested but clearly happened, as we see from the instance of Huldah. She is thought to have more spiritual clout than the high priest himself. He may have had the formal power, but she clearly had the spiritual goods, in everyone's eyes.

In the NT, the age of the Spirit levels the playing field because there is no distinction between male and female with regard to the Spirit within. Similarly, Jesus atoned for the sins of Eve. This spiritual leveling was so difficult for the cultural context that we quickly find Paul in 1 Corinthians 11 trying to create a balance so that the husband was not shamed or threatened by the participation of his wife in spiritual activities of public worship. The later parts of the NT increasingly accommodate this dynamic, setting us up for the long haul of patriarchal history that leads up to the 1800s.

But today, in a world where the secular world itself considers women equal, there is no reason not to go with the kingdom trajectory of no spiritual or leadership distinction between male and female. We know there is no objective basis for making a distinction--we all know women who are better leaders than other men. Indeed, it would now actually be a bad witness to continue this distinction, which was always connected to human culture rather than eternal principles. (We know they're not eternal because in the kingdom, women are not given in marriage).

So we should not stand in the way of any women who are truly called to be leaders. Neither the OT nor the NT prohibits it, in my opinion.

Excerpt from chapter 1Excerpt from chapter 2Excerpt from chapter 3Excerpt from chapter 4
____________________________________
...Then ensued the intricate détente of two people who are intrigued by each other but don’t want to let on too much so that they don’t get embarrassed. By the time it was all over, with a careful exchange of smiley faces and cautious advances, we were meeting at Friday's at 6 and then advancing to a movie called, No Win Situation, by 7:40.

"So what have you been up to for ten years?" It seemed like a reasonable enough way to start off a dinner conversation.

"So you're going to make me go first," she answered.

"Well, you know what I've been doing since you left," I jokingly said. "I've been working at Cafe D'
Espoir" about forty hours a week.

"Wow, full time. Are there many people who work there full time?"

Notice how she had managed to shift the conversation from her to me?

"There are four of us who work full time, including the manager. I do afternoons and evenings mostly."

"If I remember right," she said, "you weren't much of a morning person."

"So that's me. What about you these last ten years?" I tried to shift the focus back to her.

"One more question," she stubbornly continued. "Did you ever graduate?"

"Of course I did," I protested. "It did take a few more years than you did."

"Weren't you actually a year ahead of me?"

"I don't remember," I jokingly said. "I think I was still a junior when you graduated."

"Didn't your father die that year or some time around then?"

"Yeah, but I was already about a year behind then. I had to slow down and shift to part time. I actually didn't do too badly with one or two classes a semester."

A small pause and I tried again. "So did you start working at a hospital after you graduated?" It seemed like she would have to answer that.

"Yes, I live about four hours from here, so I moved back home and took a job at the local hospital in town."

"But you're in a doctoral program now, right? Doctor of Nursing Practice or something? So you must have done a master's degree somewhere?"

She had. She had moved to Chicago for a couple years and finished her master's at a teaching hospital associated with a university there. Still, I felt like I was pulling teeth to getting any information from her.

"So what made you decide to come back here?" I finally asked, not getting very far with her time in Chicago.

"I always liked it here, at least until Charlie dumped me..."

Yeah, I wasn't going to bring that one up. I knew what it was like to see a relationship derail when you were engaged. They were only two months away from the wedding when he cheated on her.

"... so when I had to get out of Chicago, I considered my options and coming back here to do a doctorate seemed like a good choice. I'd stayed in touch with my old professors, and they kept trying to get me to come back. There was an opening at the hospital. It all just clicked. I'm calling it a God thing."

"So they kicked you out of Chicago?" I joked.

"That would be what you heard in all that. You know what I mean. I needed a change of scenery."

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Following up on yesterday's post, what are the functions of the Church, and what are the ultimate priorities. I came up with five:

worship

discipleship

witness

service

fellowship

I think that's the ultimate order, but I'm not completely at peace about it. Glad for push-back. Like the body of Christ, a specific local church might emphasize one or the other more. As individual Christians, we might emphasize one or another more.

1. Worship
Surely the ultimate priority of the Church is to give glory to God. Isn't that the ultimate priority of all Christians, to love the LORD will all our heart, mind, soul, and strength? "To glorify God and enjoy him forever"? I think many would want to emphasize that we can worship God through witness, through service, and so forth.

But it seems to me that God has to come first.

2. Discipleship
I debate inside whether witness or discipleship within the church is the more ultimate priority. "Make disciples" in the Great Commission is about way more than the narrow sense of evangelism that we've grown up with. "Making disciples" is not just baptizing but "teaching them to observe all the things that I have commanded you." So even the Great Commission is more about long term discipleship than with "getting people saved."

3. Witness
Witness to the world, whether it accepts Christ or not, is a major function of the Church. The apostles were called to witness to the resurrection in the early Church. In the 1700s, it became a focus again with the English revivals and the Great Awakening in America. In the mid-1900s the neo-evangelicals brought it to the forefront again. We have to guard, however, against a shallow sense of witness (pray the sinner's prayer and you're good) based on proof-texts ripped out of the Bible and made into memory verses.

4. Service
One of the ways the Church witnesses to the world is by serving it, by doing good in the world, following the example of Jesus. "As we have opportunity, let us do good to all people" (Gal. 6:10).

5. Fellowship
Humans need fellowship, and we shouldn't make light of the social function of the Church. It can make all the difference between a Christian who makes it to the kingdom and one that doesn't. It can make all the difference between a Christian whose life becomes like Christ and one that gets choked by weeds or scorched without roots. Fellowship is the glue that attaches a person to the Church so that the other functions can take place.

There are structural elements that facilitate these functions. So leadership is not exactly a function of the Church, but the Church needs leadership and management for these functions to happen. It needs a structure.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

I facilitated an assignment for a Missional Church class last week and was reminded of how helpful a curriculum the teams who designed our Seminary curriculum is. This assignment was suggested and written by Chris Bounds five years ago.

The source is Avery Dulles' Models of the Church. This stuff has such practical implications. Let me recook it in the way of a practically oriented Seminary. Most churches mindlessly fall into one of these categories. Let me emphasize the "mindless" part. We just assume one of these is the right way.

With Dulles, I would argue that nearly all of these are an essential part of the Church. I would say also, though, that I am comfortable with the idea that some churches, like the body of Christ, may legitimately focus on some more than others.

1. The Herald
Evangelical churches often seem to mindlessly assume that the purpose of the Church is just about converting people and preaching stuff. That is certainly part of what the Church is about. And it's fine for there to be many churches that focus on this. It just isn't the whole of what a church is.

2. The Servant
Some churches focus on helping others. This is also an essential feature of the Church, although we question whether it is the only thing an individual church should be doing.

3. The Institution
Dulles rightly questions whether a church can just be institution and truly be part of the Church. I agree. You could focus on one of the others, be a bit out of balance, but still be part of the Church. But if all you are is institution, you're church probably isn't part of the Church.

On the other hand, without some structure, without some ordering to the community of faith, you're like a body without a skeleton and probably won't have much impact, especially long term.

4. The Fellowship
Some churches mostly focus on the life of the community that is already there. Call it an inward discipleship focus (although the current version of Dulles has added the discipling church as another model--I prefer to keep the original five). Call it a body life focus. It is an essential feature of the Church. In the long term, however, a church that is only focused on itself is likely to dwindle and die. There are exceptions, I suppose.

5. The Means of Grace
Some churches see the church as a means by which God brings his grace to bear on people. On the one hand, we might first think of churches that focus on sacraments. On the other hand, you might actually broaden your sense of sacrament to include all the other models:

The Church helps facilitate God's converting grace by proclamation as a herald (the first mark of the Church--proclaiming the word).

The Church helps facilitate God's prevenient grace by its service to those in need.

The Church is an institution because it's hard to facilitate anything without structure (the third mark of the Church--a community rightly ordered).

The Church helps facilitate growth in grace by fellowship and discipleship within the church walls.

The Church facilitates the sacraments, broadly conceived (the second mark of the church).

For these reasons, I agree with Dulles in his earlier editions. The "means of grace" model of the Church--if it is broadened to include the others--is the most robust, the most balanced, and indeed, the model of the Church that has the most depth.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

This is the first post in a section on atonement in my ongoing series, theology in bullet points. The first set had to do with God and Creation (soon to be self-published), and I have just finished a section on Christology.
_________________________
God chose Christ's death as the means to reconcile the world to himself.

1. In Christian history, there has been a spectrum of Christian perspectives on atonement. Atonement is the reconciliation of humanity to God by means of a sacrifice. Unlike the Trinity and the nature of Christ, there has never been a universal council where a specific perspective on atonement was endorsed as the Christian perspective.

There are four main perspectives, none of which necessarily excludes the others. The ability to combine these probably speaks to why Christianity has never chosen one exclusively.

The first is arguably the oldest and relates to Jesus' death as a sacrifice. That is the conviction that Jesus' death in some way satisfied the order of things, including the wrath of God toward sin. A second perspective involves substitution on some level, with Jesus taking our place in some way. A third theme is that of Christ's victory over Satan and the powers of evil, including the defeat of death. Finally, there are approaches to atonement that focus on God's love for us and his desire to woo and influence us toward him.

2. The New Testament teaches that "Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). Similarly, Jesus says in John 14:6, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." And in the book of Revelation, no one is found in all creation who is worthy to open the scroll to initiate both the final judgment and salvation except the Lamb of God, Jesus: "You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased for God persons from every tribe and language and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth" (Rev. 5:9-10, NIV).

It is thus the consensus of the New Testament that God has chosen Christ as the only path to be reconciled to himself. As it was put in the Protestant Reformation, "Christ alone" (solus Christus) is the only means by which such reconciliation can take place. The default state of humanity is one of alienation from God. Christ alone has made reconciliation possible.

A later article will explore the question of how Christ's death is appropriated by those who are reconciled to God. There is a spectrum of positions, ranging from those who believe Christ only atoned for a limited few who will are predetermined to make a conscious decision for God to those who believe God gives every a chance to be reconciled in one way or another to those who believe Christ's death automatically brings salvation to every last human being.

For the moment, we affirm that God has decided that Christ's death would be the only means and path by which a person can be reconciled to him. We might additionally point out that the Wesleyan-Arminian tradition does not believe in "limited atonement." That is to say, we do not believe that Christ only died for some individuals, those whom God has predetermined to be saved. [1] The Wesleyan-Arminian tradition holds that Christ died potentially for everyone who has ever lived, even though in actuality not everyone will appropriate that atonement.

3. In most of church history, the assumption has been that humanity could not have been reconciled to God without atonement taking place in the way it did. In the late 300s, Gregory of Nazianzus put it in this way, "What has not been assumed has not been healed." In other words, if Jesus did not fully assume our humanity, he could not heal us of the disease of sin.

In the early 300s, Athanasius put it this way, "God became human so that humanity might become God." He did not mean that we would literally become God (that would be heresy). He meant that Jesus' incarnation was what made it possible for us to become like God in our moral character and in the restoration of God's image in us. [2]

There is a certain logic to this tradition. We will explore the "substitutionary" element of atonement in a later article. This is the idea that in his life and death Jesus identified with our humanity and took on our sin.

However, if taken too literally, this line of thinking seems to contradict a robust sense of God's sovereignty and his omnipotence. If God is all powerful, then he is able to heal us miraculously of our sins by his divine command, by divine "fiat." [3] To say anything else seems to deny God's omnipotence.

Similarly, if God is sovereign, then surely he could have forgiven us of our sins by an act of his divine free will. To say otherwise seems to imply that God is not free to do what he wants, since we know that he wants everyone to be saved (1 Tim. 2:4). He does not want to punish my sins more than he wants me to be saved or else there would be no possibility of salvation at all.

We must therefore conclude that God has chosen for atonement to take place through Christ, not that atonement had to take place in this way. As we will see in later articles, it certainly made sense for God to reconcile the world in this way. There is a logic to it. It satisfies the order of things that God himself created. [4]

But we would claim that it was ultimately God's free choice to reconcile in this way. To say otherwise seems to deny either his sovereignty or his power.

God freely chose Christ's death as the means to reconcile the world to himself.

Next week: A2. In his death, Jesus showed us the love of God.

[1] "Limited atonement" is a belief of many in the Calvinist tradition. It is the "L" in the so called TULIP, that captures the general sense of salvation for high Calvinism. T=total depravity, U=unconditional election, L=limited atonement, I=irresistible grace, P=perseverance of the saints.

[2] Sometimes called "theosis."

[3] "Fiat" is Latin for "let it be."

[4] In this last set of comments, I have gone beyond Wesley. Wesley was still quite Calvinist when it came to his sense of atonement.

IIPart 4
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6. These individuals do not really understand that great foundation of the whole Christian building: "You are saved by grace." That is, you are saved from your sins, from the guilt of them and from the power of them, by the free gift and grace of God, his sheer mercy. You are saved through the merits of God's well-beloved Son. Only in this way are you restored to God's favor and only in this way is the image of God restored in you. It does not happen because of anything you have done on your own or because you have earned it or deserved it. You are not saved by any power or wisdom or strength that is in you or any other creature. You are only saved through the free gift and power of the Holy Spirit, who is working in everything.

7. Nevertheless, the central question remains for someone who is convinced that he or she does not have salvation: "We know that this salvation is the gift and work of God, but how can I get it?" If you say to this person, "Believe and you will be saved," the person might answer, "True, but how do I believe?"

You might respond, "Wait on God."

Again, you might hear in response, "OK, but how should I wait. Should I wait and participate in the means of grace, or should I wait without participating? Should I try to use these means of grace as I wait for the grace of God which brings salvation or should I not use them while I wait?"

8. It's impossible to imagine that the word of God has not given us any direction on such an important point. We can't imagine that the Son of God who came down from heaven "for us humans and our salvation" (Nicene Creed) would not have left us without a clear sense of a question that is so connected to our salvation.

And, indeed, he did not leave us without a clear answer. He has shown us the way in which we should go. We only have to consult the oracles of God [in Scripture] and ask what is written there. And if we will simply abide with what they teach, no possible doubt will remain...

Friday, November 07, 2014

Excerpt from chapter 1Excerpt from chapter 2Excerpt from chapter 3
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As the bank robbers sped down the streets of Miami with multiple police cars racing behind, another figure was emerging unnoticed onto the Intercoastal Waterway. It was a sight not unfamiliar to the people of Miami, a white hovercraft that was a cross between a motorcycle and a jet ski. It glided a couple feet above the water with a sound of air blasting against the surface.

In the blink of an eye, the figure that Miamians had come to call "the Vigilante" launched from the water to hover up a boat launch and onto a side street. A screen in front of the man clad in black plotted a course from where he was to the area of the chase. A quick switch to his own private satellite allowed him to watch the robbers manage to elude their pursuers by a quick set of turns just out of the sight of the police.

His hand on a throttle and the speeder soared from just above the road into the air above the buildings of the Miami neighborhoods. He watched the car disappear into a parking garage. No other vehicles emerged by the time he got there. Another button and three wheels emerged from the bottom of his speeder and the vehicle went electric.

The garage was mostly empty, but he sneaked up on a van just as its back door closed. Next to it was the getaway car he had seen on satellite. But before the van could start, the Vigilante shot an electromagnetic wave that shorted the van's electrical system. By the time the driver emerged, he was standing ready with a machine gun full of tranquilizer darts.

The driver fell to the ground before he even knew someone else was there. When the back of the van opened, the two inside were greeted with a quick round of tranquilizer fire as well. The fourth man on the passenger side managed to get out before the Vigilante could get to him. Before he was back to his speeder, the man had jumped three stories down over the side of the parking garage.

The men would be unconscious long enough for the police to get there. The Vigilante tossed a magnetic tracer onto the van, sending a familiar signal to the police, while he went back into hover mode and sped in the direction of the lone escapee, his gun strapped around his shoulder. There was barely enough room for him to launch out the side of the garage too, hitting the throttle as he shot out.

The man was not in sight, but a quick review of the satellite image of the last minute showed that he had headed to the south and stolen a nearby motorcycle. He had knocked the rider off while she was driving down the street. A moment later and he was in hot pursuit. Pedestrians a few streets down watched first the motorcycle go speeding through a red light, quickly followed by the hovercraft about fifteen feet up in the air, far enough up to fly over the traffic.

Now the electromagnetic pulsar switched to laser mode, as the Vigilante used the eye controlled visor in his helmet to aim it toward the tires of the motorcycle. On the first shot, the tire of the motorcycle blew and the assailant went flying through the air onto the ground. Thankfully, the man only scraped himself up.

In a moment the Vigilante was hovering near him, the man looking up in pain but with nowhere to go. One shot with a dart and he was unconscious, just in time for a police car to arrive. A brief glance at the policeman, and the Vigilante soared off to return from whence he came...

Wednesday, November 05, 2014

I was reading through Romans 10:5-13 in Robert Jewett's Romans commentary in the Hermeneia series last night. I was curious what a student would think of it. The footnotes are an impressive dazzle of references to scholars and ancient literature. The very first page is a dizzying presentation of issues relating to the original text. Although it is translated, the commentary is full with Greek words and comparative quotes, not to mention an extensive train of thought outline for these nine verses.

I don't know what I would have thought as a student. It is impressive work, a kind of definitive resource in one respect. I was able to follow it. I gained in knowledge from it.

I'm not sure though what to do with it or what a pastor would do with it. That's not what Hermeneia is designed to do, of course. It's goal is simply to clarify, in as advanced terms as possible, the train of thought of the text, not its significance. I highly value it personally.

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

Part 1Part 2Part 3
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... I am using this expression, "means of grace," because I don't know of any expression that is better. I also use it because it has frequently been used by Christians in the Church for many ages. It has particularly been used by our own church, the Anglican Church, which instructs us to praise God both for giving us these means of grace, as well as for our hope of future glory. The Church teaches us that a sacrament is "an outward sign of an inward grace, and a means by which we receive this grace."

The most important of these means are 1) prayer, whether privately or publicly in a worshiping congregation, 2) searching the Scriptures--including reading it, hearing it read, and meditating on them, and 3) partaking of the Lord's Supper, eating bread and drinking wine in remembrance of Christ. We believe that God has ordained these to be the normal channels by which God conveys his grace to the souls of men.

2. But let's make it clear that the whole value of these means depends on whether they actually serve the ultimate goal of faith. As a result, all of these means, when they are separated from the goal, are less than nothing. They are emptiness. If they do not contribute to knowing and loving God, they are not acceptable in God's sight. Indeed, they become rather an abomination before God, a stink in his nostrils. He is tired of putting up with them. Most of all, if they are used to do away with the faith they were designed to serve, it is not easy to find words for the enormous foolishness and wickedness of thus turning God's arms against himself. It is keeping Christianity out of the heart by using the very means that God put in place to bring it.

3. Similarly, we accept that apart from the Spirit of God, no outward means whatsoever can bring any benefit. It cannot to any degree bring the knowledge or love of God. Beyond dispute, the Spirit himself brings about any help that happens on the earth. It is he alone who, by his own almighty power, brings about in us what is pleasing in his sight. All outward actions--unless God is working in them and by them--are only ineffective and impoverished actions.

Therefore, whoever imagines that there is any intrinsic power in any means of grace whatsoever is greatly in error. This person does not know the Scriptures or the power of God. We know that there is no inherent power in the words that are spoken in prayer, in the letter of Scripture read, the sound of Scripture heard, or the bread and wine received in the Lord's Supper. Rather, it is God alone who is the giver of every good gift and the author of all grace. The whole power is from him whereby there is any blessing conveyed to our soul through any of these.

Similarly, we know that he is able to give the same grace even if there were no means [of grace] on the face of the earth. In this sense, we may affirm, that, with regard to God, there is no such thing as a means of grace, because he is just as able to work whatever he wants by any means or by no means at all."

4. We believe further that no use of these means of grace will ever atone for a single sin. Only the blood of Christ alone can do that. Only through the blood of Christ can any sinner be reconciled to God. There is no other satisfaction of the need for atonement [propitiation] because of our sins. There is no other fountain to wash our sin and uncleanness.

Every believer in Christ is deeply convinced that there is no worthiness before God except in Christ. There is no virtue in any work that we do, not in saying prayers or searching the Scripture or hearing the word of God or eating the bread of communion or drinking the cup of communion. No one who knows the grace of God will deny that Christ is the only real basis and cause of God's grace, which if nothing else is captured by the expression that "Christ is the only means of grace."

5. Still again, although it is a sober truth, we recognize that a large proportion of those who are called Christians today abuse the means of grace to the destruction of their souls. No doubt this is the case with all those who are content with a look of godliness but who lack the power of it. Some of them would like to think that they are already Christians, because they do certain things, even though Christ was never yet revealed in their hearts, nor the love of God poured out in them. Others suppose that they will certainly become one just barely because they use these means. They may be dreaming, without hardly thinking about it, that there is some kind of automatic power in them that will sooner or later (they don't know when) make them good people. Or they imagine that there is some sort of merit in using them that will earn them true righteousness from God--or that perhaps he will accept them without it...

Jesus took on flesh as a prophet of the kingdom. In his death he became priest to reconcile humanity and the creation to God. In his resurrection, ascension, and exaltation to God's right hand, God has enthroned him to his proper place as king of the universe.

The Apostle's Creed says, "On the third day he rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and is seated on the right hand of God the Father Almighty. From there he will come to judge the living and the dead."

1. The climax of almost all the sermons of Acts is the statement that, "God raised him from the dead" (e.g., Acts 2:24). For Acts, the resurrection is the key event in the story of the restoration of all things, and Acts connects Jesus' resurrection with is immediate enthronement as king of all things.

It is interesting that Acts words the resurrection in terms of God raising Jesus, rather than Jesus simply rising himself. Paul also refers to Jesus' resurrection in this way, either in terms of God raising him (e.g., Rom. 4:24) or passively of Jesus being raised by God (e.g., Rom. 8:34). This observation points to what we have said before, namely, that in his humanity, Jesus played it by the human rules. What he did on earth is what the Spirit can do through us. And just as God raised him from the dead, so also we have the hope of being raised from the dead (e.g., 1 Cor. 6:14).

In Jesus' own day, God raising him from the dead vindicated Jesus' message and identity. It indicated that Jesus was indeed the Messiah, the promised and expected king of Israel. Many had suspected this truth while he was alive, but Jesus did not function as king while he was on earth, even if some wanted to make him king (e.g., John 6:15). Near the end of his earthly ministry, Peter privately got him to confirm that he was in fact the Messiah (Mark 8:27-30).

One of the reasons Jesus may have kept this identity somewhat secret is because it was not his purpose while he was on earth to function as king. Similarly, from a Christian perspective, the final goal of his earthly mission was his death on the cross. But death contradicted the normal expectations of a Messiah for the Jews of his day. To announce his kingship publicly would have been counterproductive to his ultimate purposes. [1]

The word Messiah, like its Greek translation, Christ, means "anointed one." More than one role in Israel involved this sort of anointing with oil, but the specific function in view here is that of anointed king. This was of course always part of God's plan. Jesus was always the heir apparent to the throne. But, properly speaking, Jesus did not function as Messiah while he was on earth.

2. The ascension is narrated in Acts 1:9-11. He leaves the earth in the sight of his disciples and goes to the highest sky where God's presence is. He "has passed through the heavens" (Heb. 4:14).

To be sure, we do not picture the universe the way that people did at the time of Christ. They pictured a series of skies, layers of heaven (the same word means both heaven and sky) as you went up from the earth. God was in the highest heaven, the highest layer of sky. We now see the earth going around the sun in just one of millions of solar systems in one of millions of galaxies.

So where did Jesus ascend to? [2] If God created the universe out of nothing, as Christians now believe, then the heaven of God's ultimate presence is not in this universe. We frankly do not know enough to say whether there is a distinct heaven within this universe to which Jesus physically ascended. The New Testament teaches that Jesus retains his body and Christianity teaches that he will retain his glorified body forever, just as we will.

It is always possible that Jesus ascension was more for the benefit of the disciples, Jesus meeting them in their ancient worldview, than a true exit into space. Perhaps, once he was clear of their sight, he disappeared into whatever other dimension "heaven" is in.

3. Jesus sat on the right hand of God. We call this seating the session of Jesus. His seating indicates that atonement is accomplished. It also indicates that his enthronement is now complete. Before his resurrection and exaltation to God's right hand, Jesus was the one destined to be king. After he sits at God's right hand, he is now acting as God's king.

A significant strand relays this sense of Jesus being exalted as Lord Messiah after his resurrection.

"Therefore, God has highly exalted him and graced him with the Name above every name... that every knee should bow and every tongue confess... that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father" (Phil. 2:9-11). [3]

"God raised this Jesus from the dead... Therefore, having been exalted to the right hand of God... he poured out this Spirit... Therefore, let all the house of Israel know for certain that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ" (Acts 2:32-33, 36).

"If you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and have faith in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved" (Rom. 10:9).

"Christ sat on the right hand of Majesty in the heavens, having become as much greater than the angels as the name he has inherited is greater than theirs. For to which of the angels has he ever said at any time, 'You are my Son, today I have given you birth'" (Heb. 1:3-5).

"God has fulfilled this [promise] to us, his children [Israel], when he raised Jesus, as it is written in the second psalm, 'You are my Son, today I have given you birth'" (Acts 13:33).

All these passages suggest that the titles "Christ," "Lord," and even "Son of God" were all originally royal titles associated with Jesus' enthronement at God's right hand immediately following his resurrection and exaltation to God's right hand. He sits and receives his throne. [4]

4. Paul at various points connects Jesus resurrection to various aspects of salvation:

"Jesus was handed over because of our transgressions. He was raised for our justification" (Rom. 4:25).

"God caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead" (1 Pet. 1:3).

Later articles will explore the nature of salvation. These verses allude to two aspects of our ultimate salvation. Justification is our acquittal in relation to the legal charges against us because of our wrongdoing, our "transgressions." Jesus' resurrection indicates that he has taken care of those charges with his own death. It also relates to the fact that as our lawyer he is now arguing our case at God's right hand (cf. 1 John 2:1).

Another article will later explore the fact that our own resurrection from the dead will be patterned after the resurrection of Jesus. "Just as we have born the image of the earthly man [Adam], we will also bear the image of the heavenly" (1 Cor. 15:49). The fact that God raised Jesus from the dead gives us the hope that God will also raise us one day" (e.g., 2 Cor. 4:14).

God has already, through the power of the Spirit, raised us out of our sin and into a newness of life (Rom. 6:4). At least Paul suggests that is the way it is supposed to be. We all know, as Paul did, that there are plenty of believers whose lives include sinful actions. But it is not supposed to be that way. God urges us not to "let Sin rule in our mortal bodies" (Rom. 6:12).

6. Jesus' reign has begun. The kingdom has commenced. But the kingdom is not fully implemented.

We call this an "inaugurated eschatology." The kingdom is inaugurated. Christ's rule has begun. "Christ has died. Christ has risen." But there is a third part. "Christ will come again."

When Christ returns, his kingdom will come to earth, as it is in heaven. "Of the increase of his government, there will be no end" (Isa. 9:6). He will return with his angels to judge the earth (2 Thess. 1:7) and then he will establish his reign on the earth (Rev. 20:1-6). Then he will turn the kingdom over to God the Father for all eternity (1 Cor. 15:28).

Next week: A1. God chose Christ's death as the means to reconcile the world to himself.

[1] Because Jesus did not access his omniscience while he was on earth, we have to speculate about when he really sensed his identity and destiny while he was on earth. Was it, for example, at his baptism that he realized that he was the promised king?

[2] Leaving out the question of whether these are dramatic portrayals on Luke's part rather than literal ones.

[3] My translation. I am leaving out portions of these hymn-like verses to make the train of thought clear. Many think Paul may be quoting and amplifying an existing hymn or poem. I personally wonder if the parts I have omitted are Pauline amplifications of it, along with a line that I have retained, "to the glory of God the Father."

It seems likely that the original hymn in some way connected the Name of God in the Old Testament to Jesus, namely, YHWH, which is generally translated as "Lord" in Greek. The exaltation of Jesus is thus very high indeed here indeed, far beyond his already high initial status of "being in the form of God" (Phil. 2:6).

[4] There is no reason to insist that these be literal actions, that Jesus literally sat down on some literal seat. We get the point. Jesus' kingship is now inaugurated.